I have not been teaching yoga for very long. This I will gladly admit. Some days that feels freeing. Other days it feels like the glaring reason I should stay quiet. When you are new at something, you notice every glance, every comparison, every silent voice in your head telling you that you do not belong.

And yet, when I step into a room to teach, a rhythm shows up. A way of guiding class that feels natural even though it does not look like what I have seen elsewhere. At first I questioned it, wondering if I should conform to what is “normal” in yoga spaces. But the more I pay attention, the more I realize that different is not always wrong. Sometimes different is exactly what someone needs.

I do not fit neatly in the usual circles. Traditional yoga studios often lean on language and sequences that do not feel like home to me. Christian spaces are hesitant to even hear me out. I am somewhere in between, and for a while that felt like failure. But I am starting to believe it might be a path forward.

What does it all mean, practically, when you walk into one of my classes? What exactly does this weird in-between style look like in the room, on the mat, in your body? I think the clearest way to describe it is by naming what you will not find, then showing what you absolutely will.

Five Things You Will Not See when I'm Teaching Yoga

1. My belly

There are many teachers who feel comfortable in crop tops, and I admire that freedom. But that is not me. I teach best when I am at ease, and for me that means being covered, not distracted by my shirt riding up or worse, my pants sinking down. My classes are not about aesthetics. They are not about watching the teacher’s body and striving to look the same, thank God. If you came hoping for toned abs at the front of the room, you will have to look elsewhere. Even if I wore crop tops, you wouldn't see any chiseled abs if we're being honest!

2. The word “Namaste”

I close class simply, usually with “Go in Peace.” My approach to language is deliberate. Some students feel at home with Sanskrit, others feel unsettled by it. My role is not to complicate that tension. My role is to make space for healing. Sometimes that means leaning spiritually neutral, sometimes faith-forward, but always being clear and upfront about what you will find in each class or series.

3. Sun Salutations, at least not often

They are a solid sequence for building heat, strength, and endurance. Many studios run them as the backbone of every class. But they rarely appear in mine. Part of that is practical: they do not serve the nervous system-focused goals I am working toward as much as other parts of the practice might. And part of it is cultural: for some students from faith backgrounds, the ritual feel of Sun Salutations can be an obstacle. Rather than push through discomfort, I choose other ways of sequencing that feel accessible and supportive to those seeking to learn with caution.

4. Pressure to perform

There is no calorie talk. No subtle competition. No shame for choosing rest. I say most classes, if you nap the whole hour, I would be so proud! It's a blessing to support students in rest and autonomy to practice according to their needs. You will not be asked to push through pain or ignore your body’s signals. My classes are about movement as medicine, not movement as punishment. Not that other classes punish you for poor performance, all that just to say, you probably won't see me teaching power yoga, and you're invited to decide your own pace and effort. If your nervous system needs slowness, you will find it here.

5. A class without touch

With full consent, I do offer hands-on assists. A hand on the shoulder, a gentle lengthening of the spine, a supportive press at the feet. Always optional, always respectful, but present because safe touch matters. Our bodies carry stories of being ignored, dismissed, or violated. A gentle touch can tell the body the opposite story. It can whisper: you are safe, you can soften, you belong here. Along with the many benefits of coregulation in safe spaces.

Five Things You Will See when I'm Teaching Yoga

1. Neuroscience-informed language

I weave the language of the nervous system into class because knowledge is grounding. You might hear me speak of vagal tone, windows of tolerance, or regulation. You might hear cues about interoception, pendulation, or grounding strategies. This is not about being technical for its own sake. It is about reminding your mind that what your body is experiencing has a name, it's not woo woo or made up, and you are not alone in learning this language or exploring healing.

2. Long Savasana every time

I do not rush rest. In fact, I treat rest as the main event, usually spending more than 30% of the class time here. We spend time landing at the start of class, settling in before we move. We spend time at the end, sometimes with guided meditation, sometimes with gentle touch, always with intention. Rest is not the afterthought. It is the healing.

3. A trauma-aware atmosphere

Every cue I give is invitational. Every shape is optional. The yes or no of your body matters more than the sequence I planned. There is no pressure to copy me or anyone else. I watch carefully for signs of overwhelm with the goal of offering suggestions or guidance out of distress. I build in tools for grounding and safety cues for the brain. The goal is not to look graceful. The goal is to feel safe.

4. Spiritual neutrality or faith-forward options

I make the tone clear before you sign up. Some classes lean fully neutral, grounded in science and nervous system language. Others lean faith-forward, drawing openly on Scripture, prayer, and Christ-centered reflection without getting preachy. I am not interested in performative spirituality. I am interested in honest space where students can rest, connect, and breathe.

5. Creative, functional movement

You may sway. You may rock. You may roll on the mat. You may pause mid-flow for a sigh or a shake. These are not distractions. They are the practice. My classes are not about mimicking shapes for the sake of precision. They are about experiencing movement in a way that prepares you for real life. All yoga can be helpful here; however, not all classes are grounded in this concept. Yoga for nervous system healing, not yoga for the perfect photograph.

A Rhythm That Holds It All Together

Only after teaching for a while did I realize that what I was doing followed a natural pattern. A shape to the class that repeated itself without me forcing it. Eventually I gave that pattern a name: the ARC Embodied Method.

It begins with Arrival, where we land in the space and breathe. Then comes Activation, gentle movements that wake the body. Integration follows, the bulk of the practice where we connect sensation, movement, and awareness. Finally, we Return, settling again into rest and closure.

This rhythm is not rigid. It bends and shifts depending on the needs of the group. But it's been a great guide to keep consistent and always coming back to the right things. It always brings us back to the same truth: movement is not about performance. It is about embodiment.

So this is my teaching style. A blend of what you will not see and what you absolutely will. A space where play and rest matter more than performance. Where nervous system science sits comfortably beside faith. Where you can show up with confidence or with exhaustion, with certainty or with doubt, and still find a place to belong, grow, and heal.

I am not here to make you more bendy. I am not here to sculpt your body into someone else’s idea of fitness. I am here to help you feel. To let you grieve. To help you come home to yourself and remind you that your body can be a place of safety and wonder again.

Whether you are here for healing, for faith, or simply for a softer way to move, you are welcome here. Wanna jump in with us? Find local series here...